A Mortal Girl
by repmetsyrrah
Summary: S/T AU. It is a strange, yet popular assumption that a child of a human and Fae would somehow be weak. The truth is quite the opposite. Second, 3x05 AU chapter added.
1. Chapter 1

Written for this month's Rock the AU! challenge on Tumblr: Rock the paranormal AU.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**A Mortal Girl**

* * *

He wonders how long it will take before the sound of her head on the stone stops ringing in his ears.

Though really, that hadn't even mattered. She was gone by the time her skull cracked on the stones, her neck having snapped when her head impacted the table behind her.

_He felt it, as he always did, when a human life ceased in his presence._

_He'd never thought to feel hers._

_"Oh no. Oh, please God, no!"_

_He didn't know if there truly was a god, or only his father's people. But what harm was the plea?_

_Sybil was too young and full of life. _

_He didn't even think. He didn't consider the danger of exposing himself in front of her cousin or the crowd, he didn't care if they confronted him. If this led to his own death as had happened in the past._

_There was simply no other option._

_It couldn't end like this._

_He wouldn't let it._

_He reached out, his hand moving under the guise of checking her himself, hoping desperately Mr. Crawley was too distracted to notice or care._

_He settled his hand on her head and reached down, drawing upon the side of himself he usually hid in this world and breathed out, letting the power flow from his fingers._

_He closed his eyes as he felt her bones knit back together under his hand, her vertebrae repairing and realigning as her severed spinal cord became whole again._

_He was quick enough that her soul had not yet left, barely shifting as he forced life back into her body, using the beating of his own heart as a guide to restart her silenced one. _

_They would beat together for a few days, until hers rediscovered its own rhythm._

_He needed to make an effort to remain calm, to spare her the confusion of a sudden inexplicable rush of fear or anger should he experience it himself._

* * *

It is a strange, yet popular assumption that a child of a human and Fae would somehow be weak. Not fully of either world, doomed to be an outcast wherever they went.

The truth is quite the opposite.

Nature is clever. She works to improve, not diminish.

Tom knows his human side is his true strength. Unlike his cousins he can exist fully in either world, and is welcome in both. He can work with cold iron, he can eat and drink the foods of either realm, he can live for years as a human, take a job, experience mortal life.

Yet his Fae blood remains undiluted, and with it, his father's abilities.

He should have used them sooner, perhaps violated his own rules and pried into her mind to divine her true intentions.

But he hadn't and all he can do now is hope she won't remember.

She spares him a single glance as she's helped from the car, a small smile, before she's bundled away by Mr. Crawley and swept inside where her family will be told she suffered only a minor bump to her head, nothing but a graze.

Her sister remains a moment, issuing an unnecessary warning.

Tom couldn't care less about what Lord Grantham might do to him. There's only one thing that matters right now.

"You'll let me know how she gets on?"

Lady Mary looks at him and for the first time in a long while he feels young and afraid. Uncertain that she'll even grant him this.

"Please."

It's odd, the feeling that for all his secrets and power he's here, begging a young woman not to leave him in the dark. To let him know his efforts were not in vain.

"If you wish."

He nods and watches her leave.

He stands a moment and listens to the blood rushing through his body, the beat of it perfectly in time with Sybil's.

It will only last a short while, the shared rhythm. But after today, there's no doubt in Tom's mind his heart will always belong to her.

Perhaps it has for a while.

His mother is going to laugh.

He can hear her now.

"_Just like your father, you are. The Branson men never could resist a mortal girl."_


	2. Chapter 2

Written for Lady Sybil Lives Day on tumblr.

Thanks to babageneush for the beta.

**A Mortal Life**

* * *

In any other situation he should have allowed death to claim her and joined her on the other side.

He should have. He's not sure he would.

But this isn't any other situation.

They're parents now.

If he lets her leave he can't bring their daughter.

And won't be parted from either of them.

The newborn may be a child of the Fae but unlike her father she is mostly human. She will have only one journey to the afterworld and he will not deny her a mortal life.

He will not deny her a mother to guide her through it.

In another situation he should let her go. But not now.

_Her soul has already left._

_Unlike the sharp and sudden crack of a neck it had not been taken by surprise. Sybil had been dying for some time and her soul had become loose, readying itself for its departure._

_Tom follows. _

He's careful, retaining enough inside him that he doesn't destroy his own body but her injuries- if they can be called such- are severe.

He can feel her whole body shutting itself down, giving up the fight to keep life inside, just an empty shell.

It will take almost all he has.

_He finds her not far from the edge, a fading light, but not yet out._

_She doesn't seem surprised to see him there, nor worried about the looming darkness before her._

"_Am I dead?"_

"_Yes," he answers honestly. "But you're not yet gone. You can come back. I can show you the way."_

Her head, that's what she had been yelling about. He lays a hand on her brow and pushes himself down, feeling the power twist its way into her veins, sinking into the soft grey tissue under her skull, not understanding what he feels but knowing her body knows how it should be. All he has to do is give it the means to repair itself and it will.

He sinks all he can spare into her.

This is not a simple broken bone. He can't hide what he's doing any more.

He doesn't even try and his hands begin to glow.

"_What if I'm meant to go now?"_

_She doesn't speak, not in a traditional sense, but the meaning passes between them, deeper than words and much more clearly understood._

_He feels it then, the tiredness in her being, the exhaustion from bringing their daughter into the world. She wants to rest and just a little further she will find a peace unlike any she's known before._

_It tempts her._

_He can't help the plea._

"_No, love. Please don't leave me."_

His head is bowed, the confused and frantic sounds coming to his ears muted. She can't breathe, her sister had screamed.

His hand moves to her chest, light sinking down through her ribs, easing into her lungs, relaxing her airway and pushing air back into her body.

He ignores the family, the doctors, the yells and demands for an explanation, the muttered prayer coming from the corner.

"_You can't go, not yet."_

"_Come with me then."_

_It seems the obvious answer to her. She has known of his heritage since they had first arrived in Ireland, even meeting his father on the night of a full moon._

_They had even discussed death. How the world of the Fae is closer to that world than hers._

_How, if she wishes, Tom could put a case forward to the council to grant her life in the realm of the Fae upon her eventual, mortal death, as his father had for his mother. _

_They will tell him he should have done that tonight._

_But he won't._

Her family sound far away and still awfully confused but they must understand in some way for no one touches him or distracts him.

He continues.

"_We've got a daughter, love. I can't leave her alone, and I won't bring her here. Not yet."_

_A daughter._

_He feels something more then. Far stronger than the fatigue and acceptance that beckon her to the other side. Something not even death can fight._

_A mother's love. _

_A final rest calls to her, promising her an end to her tiredness, her worries, to everything that is harsh and painful about mortal life._

_Everything that's wonderful._

"_No,"_ _she breathes, turning away from the end, towards him and their child. _

_Not yet._

Her heart shudders back into rhythm, guided by the beat of his own.

He remembers the last time he drew her back from death, how he had so cherished the brief days their hearts beat as one, sometimes stopping and simply placing a hand over his chest, overwhelmed to share something so intimate.

He ties them closer this time.

_She follows him gladly._

_He draws them back to the land of the living, slipping easily back into himself and smiling as she follows._

His awareness returns fully.

He's still kneeling by her bed, his hands laid out on her, the glow of the magic fading as her soul settles back into her now-healed body.

The silence is dizzying. They've stopped yelling, stopped questioning and for the moment they simply stare, some shocked, some awed, as the former chauffeur retrieved their Sybil from the brink of death.

They will start again shortly, demanding an explanation, one he will have to provide. One they will now be forced to believe.

But he will not face them alone.

In the distance an infant's cry shatters the quiet.

Sybil shifts, drawing another breath as her hand closes on his.

They open their eyes together.


End file.
